Strangers
by fluffybluff
Summary: KK. "It was always a one time thing, and after a cup of coffee in this Sunday morning, he would forget everything. He would forget her existence." But will he finally find someone he can't forget?
1. February 1st

Disclaimer: standard

AN: I first get the idea of this story for a short film my friend is going to make. We're joining a local amateur film competition with this year's theme "strangers" (hence, the title. I know, I'm uncreative :P). Me and my friend are writing for the film and this was the first idea we had in mind. Unfortunately, he rejected this story and went for my other story instead. I really like the idea in this one, so I decided to make it a KK smutty/lemony fanfic even though it will become a little OOC :P it's my first lemon as well… this fic's gonna have short chapters everytime, and consist of two or three chaps, but I hope u like it and don't forget to review!

Btw, why do they call the smut thingy, lemon??

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STRANGERS

Chapter 1: February 1st

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Neither of them knew who approached who in the beginning. Before they knew it, he was feeling her pinkish and soft skin against his, and strands of black hair knotted in his fingers. He tasted her sweet lips and caressed her body with his rough hands. His amber eyes were staring hungrily at her soft sapphire eyes. He needed a release; he didn't care who she was. He just needed something to make him feel alive. Something to make sure that he was real.

He cupped her tender breast with his one hand, while his mouth devoured her plum lips passionately. His other hand was travelling around her curve, as if trying to remember every slope it traced. As their kiss became more and more heated, he lifted her body and threw her on the bed. His lips trailed down to her neck, and her cleavage, and then her breasts, licking and sucking mercilessly, while he started to undress her. Her hands were also trailing impatiently over his body, trying to get rid whatever barrier he had left, so that she could feel his skin against hers. Soon, their clothes were on the floor and they were touching each other's bodies, becoming more savage everytime they felt the rising temprature. He explored every inch of her naked skin with his lips and tongue, savouring her delicate taste in his mouth, while his hand caressed her in her most sensitive place. He knew very well how to handle a girl in the bed. In a split second, she was moaning in pleasure with her head tilted back, out of control. Her hands grasped his body with a strong grip, while her body was trembling hand, and she was soaking wet. He knew perfectly that it was time. With one violent movement, he was inside her.

The more she reacted, the more he would act violently. He loved to hear her screaming, whether it was an embodiment of pain or pleasure. He loved to feel the rushing blood all over his body when he moved rhythmically against her. He loved the burning feeling he had when their skin touched. He loved it when his head started to spin and his vision became blurry, and all he could hear was their loud pant, her wild moan and groan, and the sound of their bodies being crushed together on the bed. He could even think that he actually loved the naked stranger under him.

After their heated sessions, she fell asleep because of exhaustion while he went into the bathroom to take a hot shower. He came out of the shower, and his mind became clear again. He hated it, because his cold reality was nowhere as liberating as his long, blurry hours with his stranger. Only after his long bath did he realize that she didn't look so grand and alluring like she was before. Somehow, he was not disappointed. She was still gorgeous. Her skin was pale, almost transparent, contrasting her long, jet black hair. She looked so small, wrapped up in a white blanket, almost like a little kid sleeping in her mother's embrace.

He smiled faintly at the sight.

She looked like an ink painting masterpiece.

Too bad he didn't really know how to appreciate paintings that well. His heart was still, even though he admitted that she was one of the most beautiful views he had ever seen in his life. He sighed. Maybe he was made of ice. Frozen and cold.

So he put on his clothes, and took his wallet and phone, and left the hotel room. He didn't bother to write a goodbye note to the stranger, nor to leave his phone number for her. He didn't even know her name. It was always a one time thing, and after a cup of coffee in this Sunday morning, he would forget everything. He would forget her existence.


	2. February 28th

Disclaimer: Standard

AN: Thanks for all the reviews! Actually this story is more like one of those "no obvious plot" stories. Just something I made from the idea that kept on bugging me in my head… You should pay attention to the chapter title too :D Sorry if anyone's disappointed tho :P Keep reading and reviewing!

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STRANGERS

Chapter 2: February 28th

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He looked at the sleeping stranger, curled up in his arms. Her pale skin was soft but hot, and he could see trails of his passionate caresses all over her body. Her jet black strands were loose and messy, but it only made her look more beautiful. She was a perfect contrast of black and white, like an ink painting.

He closed his eyes.

He remembered two weeks ago, he bought a set of traditional Japanese ink paintings for his living room. Until now, he still didn't hang them on the wall. He didn't even know why he bought them in the first place. He wasn't too fond of paintings, and it was not like he would have guests coming over to admire his little living room. He himself was barely at home. He was always at his office, and then at the bar, and then later at night he would find himself wide awake in a hotel room, watching his naked random stranger sleeping peacefully, before finally putting his pants back on and went back to the bar to get some more drinks. A vicious cycle that would kill him one day.

For some reason, the girl reminded him of those paintings he left in the storage room.

He looked at the black haired girl. She looked deep asleep so he decided to slip off the bed and went to the bathroom to take a long shower. He took his time, rethinking about whatever happened earlier that night, and sighed. He was satisfied in a way, but he didn't feel happy at all. In fact, he felt like something had been taken away from him.

He came out of the bathroom and slowly got dressed before he felt a movement behind him. He turned around and saw a pair of sapphire eyes looking at him.

"You're leaving already?" She asked. He smiled faintly and nodded.

"I'm going home."

"Now? In the middle of the night?"

"Yes."

She looked at him with a knowing face. She didn't smile, but her eyes were soft and understanding. It was his first time meeting her, but her glowing gaze felt somewhat familiar. He didn't really take much from it. All women were the same to him. Their names, their curves, their hair, they were the same. They all wanted something that he couldn't give. But now, he couldn't careless about that.

The girl sighed and stood up. She took a pink post-it and a pen from her bag, and wrote something down. Then, she slipped the folded pink post-it paper into his hand.

"Call me sometimes when you're not busy." She said. He stared at the folded pink paper, and put it in his pocket.

Without saying anything anymore, he gave her one last kiss before she turned around and disappeared into the bathroom.

He took all of his belongings, and as he stepped out of the door, he already forgotten about the pink paper that silently curled up inside his pocket.


	3. March 29th

Disclaimer: standard

AN: Thank you for the reviews… For the people who are confused, well that's the point of the story! So sorry that I can't answer questions about plot and characters. And about the dates… Well, I was bored so I thought it would be fun if I made a timeline out of it tehehehhee… From now on, I'm going to update this story everyday (hopefully). I can't be lazy coz it's like, 500 words per chapter! I bet it only takes you a minute to read this :P Anyways, I hope you like this chapter too :D don't forget to review!

**J Luc Pitard:** Oh, all women has their own share of jerks alright ahaha… Mine was lucky because I didn't throw him out of my apartment window (13th floor… hohoho…) :P Well, at least us girls are smart enough not to fall in to the same dark pit twice. Cheers to that! :D :D

**Jeanne:** Nope, never read it until you told me about it (Hye Kyo's "Fall From Grace", I mean). But thanks for telling me, I read it and I enjoyed it a lot! I love one shots better than stories with a lot of chapters :p

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STRANGERS

Chapter 3: March 29th

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"Thank you." She said when he handed her a cup of coffee. It was very early in the morning, but the coffee shop was already full with people who were on their way to work. And there he was, sitting with a stranger he just met last night, eating breakfast slowly like an old married couple.

He stared at her. Her sapphire eyes were dancing around attentively, looking at the people outside the window. Her small hands were holding her cup tightly, while her pink lips curved into a faint smile. Once in awhile, she would unconsciously take a small sip of her hot coffee or a small bite of her sandwich. No matter what she did, never once did she break her glowing gaze from the street. She realized that he was watching her, but she didn't seem to care. Because of that, she managed to make the silence between them warmer and more comforting. He wouldn't ask for more.

Last night, she was different. She was beautiful in a strange way. She was fragile and sweet, and she was like his three-day-pet butterfly he caught in a glass bottle when he was a kid. Strange, she was so willing, her every movement seemed to be tailored to his needs. It felt like she was created especially for him.

Oh.

An ink painting.

He blinked in realization.

Last night, she reminded him of an ink painting. A stroke of black ink on a pure white paper. Different images everytime, but he got a familiar feelings. The same touch. The same colour. The same hues. It was like a déjà vu. A fragment of tiny memory which was stored somewhere in his brain.

She took her last sip and looked at the watch on her wrist.

"Funny how time flies…" she said. He looked at the clock on the wall.

"I have to go." He took out some money from the wallet, to pay for their coffee and breakfast. She nodded.

"Me too…"

She took out a pink post-it and a pen from the purse. She wrote down something, folded it and gave it right into his hands.

"Call me sometimes when you're not busy." she said with a faint innocent smile on her lips. He crushed the pink folded post-it into his pants pocket.

"I'll be going then." He said.

"Can I at least know your name?" She asked. He looked at her and smiled.

"Let's just say that I'm a stranger." He replied. She looked at him, closed her eyes, and sighed.

"Then, I hope to see you again, stranger." She said with an understanding smile. He nodded. At least now she understood that they were going to be strangers forever.

One step he took out of the coffee shop and her smile disappeared from his mind.


	4. June 2nd

Disclaimer: Standard

AN: Thank you for a review. I know the content of the chapters are quite repetitive, but I think that's the whole point of the story… Sucks, I know… Seriously, this'll be better as a short movie (yeah. I'm still sulking about the rejection, hehe). I was thinking about writing two more chaps, but I ended up with one. So next chapter is going to be the last one. Still, I'd love some reviews, hehehe… Well then, enjoy! :D

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STRANGERS

Chapter 4: June 2nd

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He never pretended to be courteous. It was always an unconscious gesture for him to do small things for a lady. That was one reason why women were easily smitten by him. He was polite but he was confident in his every movement. He never seemed to lose his cool in any situations.

She didn't have a ride to work, and her money was drained because of series of tequila shots and some random bets she lost last night, so he kindly offered her a ride. It was a busy morning for everyone, and no one ever tolerated lateness, even though for him, it was more than a mere kindness. He had his own small, selfish reason that he didn't even know exist. So there they were, sitting side by side in his car. The morning was filled with cliché conversations about weather, coffee and sandwiches. She mentioned briefly about how she liked chicken better than beef, and he was agreeing with a slight nod.

For a reason, their brief, cliché conversations and long silences weren't awkward at all. He was driving with ease and she was listening intently to the light jazz on the radio. He looked at her from the side mirror. She was in her own world. Her black, long hair was settled nicely on her right shoulder, and her sapphire eyes danced around, and she was clearly enjoying herself, humming the jazz tunes played on the radio. He smiled at the sight. Her company was quiet but pleasant, and for once, he found himself driving a little slower than usual, just to enjoy a little more quiet moment with her. A nameless stranger he didn't even know existed until last night.

She was certainly more colourful and expressive than an ink painting, even though for a split second there, he thought that she reminded him of one.

He slowed down his car. He wasn't ready to let her go yet. The University was right around the corner, but he wanted her to stay longer.

For the first time he felt something, a small nudge in his heart.

Last night was blurry to him. He only remembered bits and pieces. He remembered his liquor, and her sweet scent of Jasmine. But he knew perfectly well, they were one. He knew what she wanted, and he was sure that she understood him as well. It was like a perfect rhyme. Her small curve fitted perfectly in his embrace. His arms were big enough to make her warms. Her voice sounded like music in his ears. They were breathing together in harmony. Right to left, top to bottom, up and down, top to under, they were dancing in the same rhythm. It was like they have known each other for years.

She was a déjà vu, a familiar sight.

Though, when his amber eyes met her sapphire gaze last night, he felt a strange emotion. He felt the immortality. For a brief moment he could understand what it means to love someone forever. Just for that brief moment. He knew perfectly that the feeling was new to him.

He stopped his car in front of the University gate.

"Have we met?" he asked. The girl looked at her, surprised. A bright smile slowly curved on her lips.

"What do you think?"

"I don't know."

With a wide smile she took out a pink post-it and a pen. After writing something on it, she folded the pink paper and put it inside his shirt pocket.

"Call me sometimes when you're not busy." She said softly. He looked at her blankly while she kissed him softly on his lips. He smiled unconsciously.

"Bye." He said.

"Bye, stranger." She replied.

She disappeared inside the gate, but he didn't move at all. The way she called him stranger was familiar. Her voice lingered comfortably in his ears. He closed his eyes to savour the melody.

Suddenly, his cell phone rang. It was a call from work. As his mind shifted from his blurry night to his newest software development, he was once again forced to forget.


	5. A Week Later

Disclaimer: Standard

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STRANGERS

Chapter 5: A Week Later

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It was an odd day for him. He had finished his work, and he was too tired to go anywhere else. For the first time in a week he went straight back home with a clear head. He was tired, but he was not intoxicated or trying to run away from something. Somehow, something had brought him back into this real world. He was a happier man.

He coughed as the dusty and the musty smell came into his nose when he entered the house. He didn't clean his house for at least seven months. He didn't even realize that his house was this dirty, mainly because when he was home he was always half conscious and always went straight to the bedroom to fall asleep instantly, and when he was wide awake, he was never at home. He was always at his office, the bar, a cheap ramen shop, or his best friend's place. More than that, this week was a little odd. He was rushing over an unexpected deadline and he was forced to sleep at the office in order to finish his work.

He looked around the house. The coffee table looked quite dirty. There were a lot of his seven months old failed software plans in shapes of paper balls on the floor, and even cobwebs behind the door, in the kitchen, and near the lamp table. A broken photo frame was lying on the uncarpeted floor.

He smiled. He didn't know where it came from, but now he had the strength to face it.

He took out the picture inside the frame and stared at it. In the picture, he was smiling happily with a girl he knew back then.

He stared at the girl's dark eyes and sighed. She was long gone, and the memory was still painful, but it was bearable now. He felt that something helped him embrace it and moved on. He didn't even know when he started to pull himself together and walk away from the darkness he drowned into for the past few months.

He was going to put the picture inside his album when his eyes stumbled upon something. There was a long, wooden box was lying on his couch. As he tried to remember where the box came from, he opened the box. There were a set of three-piece traditional ink paintings.

"Right." He remembered now. He bought the paintings at the traditional market.

He then shook his head at his own stupidity. Where would a traditional Japanese ink painting fit into a western living room? These past few months were certainly too blurry for him. His work, the booze, the girls, some loud music…

A butterfly…

He frowned to himself and shook his head. Where did that thought come from? He then dumped the painting into the box, and looked around again.

"Great…" He sighed. The lastthing he wanted to do after a sleepless week was a midnight house cleaning. But instead of ignoring the fact that everything was dirty and head straight into the room, he took a broom and a duster from the cupboard and started dusting the living room. He gathered all the trash he left behind and piled them into a big black plastic bag.

His eyes caught something familiar.

Two folded pink post-its were lying on the floor, together with the rest of the crumbled up papers and empty ballpoints. The familiar feelings rushed into his brain.

The ink painting.

"The ink painting?" He asked himself loudly, confused as to how his mind worked. What does an ink painting got to do with pink post-its?

Then it struck his mind.

He remembered a sleeping figure. A slender naked body with pale skin. Her hair was long and black, and she was curled up under a white sheet. Her face was always so peaceful, and the sight of her was too beautiful to comprehend with words. She looked pale and fragile, as if a gentle touch would break her. She was a beautiful contrast of black and white, like an ink painting.

But he knew she wasn't like that. He saw her carefree smile. He saw her cute, expressive and confident body language. He saw her drowning in her daydreams and enjoying herself. He saw her attentive sapphire eyes gave out different kinds of emotions. He saw how she would make him feel at ease everytime. She was colourful, and now he remembered. He knew her from the beginning. He knew her so well.

Unconsciously he put his hand in his shirt pocket. Another pink post-it. The last piece of puzzle.

He opened the three post-its and read them.

_**Kamiya Kaoru.**_

_**Kamiya Kaoru.**_

_**Kamiya Kaoru.**_

With the same phone number written in each paper.

"…_Call me sometimes when you're not busy…" _

His blood stopped flowing for a split second, but when it started flowing again, the first thing he did was laugh.

Laugh.

Laugh.

Laugh.

He had met a perfect girl and he didn't even realize it. No, it wasn't that he didn't realize it. He refused to realize it. He remembered perfectly. Her curve, her taste, her heat. The way she looked at him, the way she smiled… Everything. For his intoxicated mind, her perfection was too good to be true. He never had that luxury, and that was why he chose to forget. Everytime.

Only now he realized, her quiet existence had empowered him more than he could imagine.

He started to wonder about what might happen to her. Maybe after each night, she would go back home and laughed at him, the stupid guy who was too ignorant to realize that he had found his butterfly. Maybe she would get mad at him. Maybe she would cry because of him. Or she might even forget about him, like he did each night.

Now, her face appeared very clearly in his head. Delicate face structure, pale skin, jet black hair, lively sapphire eyes, and an expressive, confident smile.

He had to laugh some more until he was half crying. His whole story started to sound like a cheap comedy.

"Kamiya Kaoru… Why bother with someone so stupid like me?" He asked the three pink post-its on the floor. Four times, he remembered. She gave him four chances, and he didn't know whether she was still waiting or not. He got up abruptly, grabbed the phone, and without thinking anymore, he dialed her number. It was the time for him to prove himself to her.

"Hello?" a feminine voice answered the phone. He choked.

"Kamiya Kaoru?"

"Yes?"

"You're still there…" He blurted out spontaneously as he sunk on the floor in relief. He thought he was too late.

He heard a long pause, followed by a cute giggle from the other side of the phone.

"Won't you tell me your name now?"

He smiled. He knew that from this moment, he didn't have to be alone anymore.

"It's Kenshin. Himura Kenshin."

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=FIN=

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AN: Finally! The last chapter! I have a severe "crappy ending" disease… So later when I'm a little matured, I would probably edit this story and come up with a better ending. But until then, please bear with this one :P Since you're done reading it, I can tell u something: no 50 First Dates! That movie didn't even cross my mind until people told me the similarities bwahaha… It's more like "sometimes we try so hard to see an ant which is miles away that we don't manage see an elephant that is right in front of our eyes"… It was inspired by a local folklore in my culture where there's a perverted prince who longed for a girl he met under the moonlight and built a temple each night for a hundred nights to tempt her to come and bathe inside the temple and he would watch her bathing from afar. The girl turned out to be an angel and they couldn't be together and apparently she didnt even know that he existed lol lol... I know this is the last chap, but please also review for this last chappie :D Thanks for reading the whole story and see ya :D


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